


Mission: Chill

by MoonySideDown



Series: Batfam Week 2018 [1]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Batfam Week 2018, Batfamily Fluff Galore, Disney, Disney World, Gen, Separation, Vacation, batfam, batfamily
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-06-19 04:29:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15502332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonySideDown/pseuds/MoonySideDown
Summary: Bruce needs a vacation, and Tim needs a snack.





	Mission: Chill

 

    Bruce stretched his legs out in front of him, letting out a long breath and leaning back to allow himself to sink into the plush seat of the private jet. He closed his eyes, the rumble of the engines acting as white noise.

 

 

    As usual Alfred had been right. It had been way too long since he last took a break, never mind a vacation.

 

 

    The ice in the fresh lemonade on the side table clinked gently while it melted. What he  _ really _   wanted was something much stronger, but it hardly seemed appropriate to be drinking on the way to a nice long weekend with his sons.

 

 

    The clicking and tapping from the seat across the aisle from him paused, and he opened one eye just a bit out of curiosity.

 

 

    Tim was frowning at the computer in his lap. It was the new one Bruce had bought him for school a couple of months ago. There were stickers all over its lid from shows and comics Bruce had never watched or read himself.

 

 

    “Something wrong, Tim?”

 

 

    The teenager looked up, stiffening with alarm, and twisted in his seat so Bruce wouldn’t see the computer screen all in the space of a second or two. “No. It’s fine.”

 

 

    Bruce raised an eyebrow. The last thing he wanted to do was interrogate the boy about what he was doing and make the nice calm plane ride suddenly tense and awkward, but there was something about Tim’s reaction that made him suspicious.

 

 

    “Tim?”

 

 

    “...Yeah?”

 

 

   “Are you looking up our GPS coordinates again?”

 

 

    Tim sighed, closing his laptop.

 

 

    Bruce hid a small grin behind his glass of lemonade, and took a long sip while his son rearranged himself in his seat, finally flopping his head back against the headrest. “Have you heard anything from Dick?”

 

 

    “Not since we took off. He said to have a nice flight.”

 

 

    He nodded and set his glass back down in the small ring of condensation it had left on the table. Dick would have flown with them but he’d called a couple of nights ago, apologizing, and saying he was in the middle of a big case with the Titans and would have to meet them there.

 

 

    When Bruce glanced back over, Tim was leaning back in his seat, head turned towards the window, staring out at the clouds. Despite his posture, his body wasn’t relaxed. He held his legs stiffly straight, chewed at his lower lip, and flicked the middle finger of his right hand against his thumb while he stared.

 

 

    “He’ll be there. Trust me.”

 

 

    “You know,” Tim said, turning so suddenly to face Bruce that he almost flinched, “this would all be a lot easier if you would just tell me where we were going.”

 

 

    “Oh?”

 

 

    Tim frowned. “It would feel less like a kidnapping that way.”

 

 

    Bruce rested his head back on the headrest and closed his eyes again. “It’s not kidnapping when you’re my son and we’re in a luxury jet.”

 

 

    “That’s boo hockey and you know it, B.”

 

 

    Bruce smiled without opening his eyes. “Just relax, Tim. We only have a half hour or so to go.”

 

 

    The plane fell silent for a long moment and Bruce felt himself drifting off. Just before he fell asleep completely, he heard Tim grab his laptop again, typing away at it, and he smiled.

 

 

  * \-    -



 

 

    Bruce and Tim arrived at the gates of the Magic Kingdom roughly two hours later, after landing, checking in to the resort where they and Dick would be staying the weekend, and enjoying a room-service breakfast at Tim’s request during which he’d neatly  put away a sizable stack of pancakes.

 

 

    “Don’t you think I’m kind of old for Disney?” Tim asked while they stood in the sizable line, bouncing up onto his toes and craning his neck to try and see over the heads of the people around them.

 

 

    “Are you?” Bruce asked, glancing around in hopes of spotting a familiar mop of curly black hair in the crowd. “Should we just leave then?”

 

 

    “No,” Tim answered quickly, dropping back onto his feet, hands in his shorts pockets in an attempt at appearing casual, “it’s fine, this could be fun.”

 

 

    Bruce nodded and feigned a yawn to hide another smile.

 

 

    Canned-sounding cinematic music played from speakers pointed out over the crowd. Children were sitting on their parent’s shoulders, many of them already wearing mouse ears in varying styles.

 

 

 

    Tim was even more restless than usual, shifting his weight left and right, pacing in little circles and squares, hands in and out of his pockets, up onto his toes and back again.

 

 

    Watching all of this out of the corner of his eye, Bruce didn’t miss when he pulled out his phone, checked for texts, and put it away again, chewing on his lip.

 

 

    It might have just been a mindless quirk, a pointless action to try to vent his restless energy, but because this was Timothy Jackson Drake, he knew it was more. He was looking for any word from Dick since he’d texted the older boy during breakfast, letting them know they’d landed and that now he knew where they were going.

 

 

    Bruce sighed to himself and looked away, watching the flag over the large station building by the park entrance flutter in the breeze.

 

 

    Dick had been a strange figure in Tim’s life at the manor so far. He was there, more or less, but it was often unpredictable exactly  _ when _ he’d be there. It was more common to see him, or for him to text Tim with a surprise trip to the mall or out for dinner or to the movies than it ever was with Jason. But it was just as common for Tim to get an apology before a planned outing, because Dick was busy and couldn’t get out of Bludhaven.

 

 

    His oldest son had promised up and down that he would be there this time, no matter what. If he didn’t uphold his promise...Bruce wasn’t sure what it would do to Tim this time.

 

 

    He thought about saying something to Tim, trying to reassure him again that Dick would be there even though he wasn’t entirely sure himself, but just as he was turning to him, new music started playing over the speakers. This music was louder, more showy and cheerful, and a good portion of the waiting crowd turned to the station as soon as it started.

 

 

    An announcement played along with the music, informing everyone that the park was opening soon. A man came out and greeted the crowd, and a song and dance number began shortly afterwards.

 

 

    Tim stood at Bruce’s side, barely far enough away to keep from bumping into his side at every move, eyes wide and a slight smile on his face throughout the entire performance. The sight was infinitely more relaxing than any luxury plane ride he could ever take and Bruce found himself smiling too while the colorfully dressed dancers twirled along with the music.

 

 

    A train arrived with costumed characters and by then Tim was leaning into Bruce’s left side, riveted by the music and dancing, and Bruce had one hand resting gently on Tim’s left shoulder.

 

 

    At the end of the performance and the countdown to the park’s opening a set of small fireworks shot off into the clear blue sky and Tim flinched just slightly at the sudden noise, but recovered immediately, and Bruce let him lead the way along with the crowd through the park gates and onto the brick streets inside.

 

 

    Once they’d walked just far enough that the crowd was beginning to thin out, Bruce steered Tim out of the way of the groups and families and strollers.

 

 

    “Okay, where do you want to go first?” He asked, opening up the park map he’d gotten just outside of the gates.

 

 

    Tim shrugged, leaning against Bruce’s arm to study the paper. “I don’t know...is Dick here yet? Has he texted you?”

 

 

    Bruce hesitated, but pulled out his phone even though he hadn’t heard it vibrate and was greeted by a predictably blank screen. “Not yet. He’ll be along soon, I’m sure. We can ride a couple of things in the meantime. Or see a show. Anything you want.”

 

 

    He glanced over at Tim just in time to watch the disappointed expression cross his face.

 

 

    “Tim?”

 

 

    “It’s fine, Bruce, really.”

 

 

    “Tim-”

 

 

    Before Bruce could continue Tim reached out for the map. “Can I look, please?”

 

 

    He passed it on without a comment, glancing up at the crowds trailing through the park entrance.

 

 

    Why hadn’t he heard from Dick in all of this time? Sure he was busy with the Titans but it wasn’t like him to ignore so many texts from him  _ and _ Tim. Had he been hurt? Or worse? Surely if it was something like that the Titans would have contacted him. They might not know he was on vacation but in that case they would have contacted the manor and Alfred would have called immediately, and wouldn’t have stopped calling until he got through.

 

 

    Unless something happened to Alfred too? What if something terrible was happening at home and he had no idea because he’d been out of contact all of this time? What if his contingency alarms hadn’t gotten through to his phone because of the flight?

 

 

    He quickly pulled out his phone again and checked all the news sites he could think of for any breaking news out of Gotham. He was scrolling through reports of domestic disturbances and petty crime when something tugged on his arm.

 

 

    “Bruce? Can I go grab a churro?” Tim asked, pointing at a small store across the street from them when Bruce looked up at him.

 

 

    “You just had breakfast.”

 

 

    Tim shrugged. “I’m a growing boy, I guess.”

 

 

    “All right, go ahead. I’ll be here.”

 

 

    Tim handed him the map and hurried off into the crowd, making a beeline for the store.

 

 

    It was a stalling tactic, Bruce thought while he folded the map. Keep them by the entrance until Dick showed up.

 

 

    While he waited, after checking his texts again just in case, he entered his encrypted app for monitoring the manor’s security cameras.

 

 

    He glanced up, made sure he could still see Tim’s bright red ‘I’m here for the snacks’ t-shirt in line for a churro, and then glanced back down at his phone screen, where he could see the manor’s kitchen.

 

 

    Alfred was washing dishes, the kitchen’s tv on a cooking channel where a woman was hastily chopping garlic.

 

 

   Bruce quickly cycled through the other cameras, making sure nothing was amiss, until he got to the hall camera by the cave’s entrance and was startled by something very close to the camera. He blinked, zoomed the view out just a bit.

 

 

    It was a post-it note, taped to the camera itself. His heart jumped- was it some kind of random note? A silent call for help from Alfred? A message from someone else who had somehow managed to get in?

 

 

    The note was printed in Alfred’s neat, tight handwriting.

 

 

    ‘ _ Master Bruce- Everything is going just fine at home, enjoy your vacation or I shall fly there myself and force you onto the kiddie rides _ ’.

 

 

    He hadn’t realized Alfred knew about the app. He should have known better.

 

 

    Smiling, he shut down the app and glanced around one more time to see if he could spot Dick.

 

 

    “Excuse me?”

 

 

    Bruce glanced to his right, where a young couple in mouse ears were standing, looking just a bit sheepish.

 

 

    “Are you Bruce Wayne?” The young woman asked, smiling nervously.

 

 

    Bruce smiled his best ‘Brucie’ smile and extended a hand. “I am!”

 

 

    The young man reached past the woman to shake his hand first. “Mister Wayne! You visited my tech startup last year, Wyld Things.”

 

 

    “Oh, of course, I remember!” He glanced to the left to check Tim’s progress in line. The boy was nearly at the counter. “How’s that going for you?”

 

 

    “Great!” The man chirped while Bruce shook the woman’s hand politely.

 

 

    “We were just wondering if we could maybe get a picture with you?” She asked, holding up her phone as if to prove it.

 

 

    “Of course, no problem.”

 

 

    He stood between the two of them while a third member of their group snapped a photo.

 

 

    “Here all alone, Mister Wayne?” The man asked conversationally once they were done.

 

 

    “Oh no,” Bruce smiled, “I’m here with my son. He’s right over there getting a snack.” He gestured towards the churro stand, turning to see if Tim was done yet.

 

 

    The bright red shirt was gone.

 

 

    Bruce blinked. “I should go meet him, have a great day you two!”

 

 

    He barely heard their responses, dropping his smile and hurrying across the crowded street towards the store.

 

 

    The sweet, alluring scent of heated sugar and freshly baked dough hung in the air, and the sweetness turned Bruce’s stomach. He glanced around the inside of the building and saw nothing, then ducked back outside into the bright Florida sunshine.

 

 

    Scanning the crowd around him, looking for that red shirt, Bruce did his best not to let himself panic. He’d already let his paranoia get the better of him once today, nothing would be gained by letting it happen again.

 

 

    Parents pushing strollers. Groups in matching ‘family vacation’ shirts. Couples taking photos together. No Tim Drake.

 

 

    “Tim?” Bruce called into the noisy crowd. The boy had probably just gotten turned around in the hustle and bustle and had lost track of where Bruce was.

 

 

    Music played from overhead speakers. A band of men in striped shirts just down the street played several trumpets and one tuba. All around him was noise and laughter and people talking over each other.

 

 

    “Tim?” He tried again, louder this time, trying not to slip into his ‘batman voice’ while his heart began thudding in his chest. He’d taken his eyes off of him for  _ one second _ to check the cameras in the house and he was gone. How could the line have gone that fast? How could he have missed Tim walking away?

 

 

    Mentally he replayed the interaction with the couple. Was it just coincidence that they’d talked to him while Tim was away? Or had it been some kind of distraction? He couldn’t see them around the spot where he’d been standing. They’d vanished almost as quickly as they’d appeared.

 

 

    Suspicious.

 

 

    He closed his eyes and forced his breathing to slow down. It would be much easier to spot his son if he was calm and rational.

 

 

    While he stood there, eyes closed, recentering himself, a different memory presented itself.

 

 

    Years ago, standing in almost the same place with Dick when he was much smaller.

 

 

    The little boy was practically vibrating with excitement, wanting to try every ride and meet every character, a blank notebook in Bruce’s bag waiting for the signatures of  _ every _ princess. He’d looked down at the map for a moment to find the closest bathroom, and when he’d looked up Dick hadn’t been at his right side like he’d been moments ago.

 

 

    Bruce had been immediately terrified, and spun around nervously.

 

 

    Dick had been only a few steps away, standing on a concrete retaining wall, watching a pair of flamingos in a manmade pond among the manicured flowers. He’d turned and smiled at Bruce innocently.

 

 

_ “Lose something, B?” _

 

 

    Dick’s ten-year-old voice sounded mocking in his memory now, the sound drifting into another. Instead of Dick’s voice he heard the eerie settling of a ruined building after an explosion, felt his hands stinging while the heat of the still-smoldering debris radiated through his thick gloves. He could practically smell the acrid smoke and tang of spent explosives.

 

 

    A little boy tripped on the brick walkway nearby and when he landed he was Jason Todd, broken and battered beneath rubble because Bruce hadn’t been watching and just  _ hadn’t been fast enough _ .

 

 

    He’d lost one son already, he couldn’t possibly be about to lose another.

 

 

    He opened his eyes, a new determination rising in his chest. He’d walk around Main Street, checking in all the buildings, text Tim once, then head for park security. From there he’d alert Alfred if they didn’t find him within five minutes.

 

 

    It was a good plan. Sensible. Bruce nodded to himself and started walking along with the crowd, keeping a pace that would allow him to watch passersby, and keeping an eye out for the couple who’d talked to him.

 

 

    He’d almost walked the length of the street when his phone buzzed in his pocket, almost startling him.

 

 

    It was a text from Dick, finally.

 

 

    “ _ Look to your right. _ ”

 

 

    Bruce stopped in his tracks and looked up.

 

 

    Dick was walking towards him, practically beaming despite a bruise on his cheek and the bags under his eyes. Tim was on his back, arms loosely around his neck, holding a cup of ice cream in each hand.

 

 

    “Lose something, B?” Dick asked with a cheerful grin when he got up close to him.

 

 

    Tim dropped from his brother’s back, frowning severely at Bruce while he passed one of the cups to Dick. “Where on earth have you been, young man? I told you to stay put. I was worried sick.”

 

 

    Bruce, relief washing through him like a fine, cool mist in the hot sun, crossed his arms. “You  _ said _ you were going to get a churro.”

 

 

    Tim shrugged, grabbing the plastic spoon that was poked into his ice cream and taking a spoonful. “Dick stole me away and convinced me that ice cream was better this early in the morning. We’ll have churros for lunch.”

 

 

    The phrase ‘stole me away’ was a bit too close to what he’d actually been fearing for Bruce to do anything but frown.

 

 

    Dick, holding his own ice cream in one hand, playfully smacked Bruce’s shoulder. “Chill out, B, no harm done. Sorry I’m so late.”

 

 

    “It’s okay,” Tim answered for them both, “no problem.”

 

 

    Bruce glanced at his sons, smiling at each other while they playfully nudged each other with their elbows and ate their ice cream. Dick’s sunglasses slipped from his head and Tim caught them before they hit the ground, playfully pretending to throw them over the fence into the pond.

 

 

    “Where do you boys want to go first?” Bruce asked, smiling just slightly.

 

 

    “Teacups.” Dick said simply, wrenching his sunglasses out of Tim’s hand and hooking them on the front of his gray Mickey Mouse t-shirt.

 

 

    “Right after ice cream?”

 

 

    “We’ve got strong stomachs, right Tim?”

 

 

    The younger boy, mouth full of chocolate-vanilla swirl, nodded enthusiastically.

 

 

    Bruce smiled in earnest, shrugging and turning to start walking that way. “Only if you two ride in a separate cup.”

 

 

    Dick took long strides to lead the way, passing Bruce easily. “Well obviously, mister ‘I don’t like to spin my teacup’.”

 

 

    Tim, passing Bruce also, spun around at Dick’s words and looked at Bruce with wide eyes.

 

 

    “ _ What? _ ” He asked in a pitch his voice hadn’t reached since before puberty, “Bruce you have like, muscles on top of muscles. You could spin that teacup faster than  _ anyone _ .”

 

 

    “That’s why I don’t,” Bruce said rationally, “I don’t want to break the ride.”

 

 

    Both boys laughed, leading the way through the crowd, and Bruce kept smiling, following them along the sunbaked street.

 

 

    Halfway to the teacups, Dick moved close to Tim and leaned down a little to speak directly into his ear.

 

 

    “Bruce is smiling. This really _ is _ the most magical place on earth…”

**Author's Note:**

> My fic for day 1 of Batfam Week 2018! The theme was vacation or separation, but I went with a combination. ;) Enjoy!


End file.
